She awoke the screaming beep of her alarm clock and pushed herself off of her desk. Her mind still consumed with yesterday's events. She muttered a quick prayer to the Madonna for Maxwell's safety and hopped into the shower.
The hot water felt good, as is poured across her tired body and washed the fatigue from her mind. Quickly she got dressed. It wasn't until she looked in the mirror that she realized she was wearing the same red shirt that she met Gabriel in. Quickly she changed to another shirt, a black satin dress shirt that tapered at her waist. She ran a brush through her long hair and contemplated cutting it short again. She pulled Gabriel's lighter from the pocket of her dirty jeans and stared at it for a long while, before shoving it deep into her pocket.
She sighed deeply and picked up her Peacekeeper communicator, as gathered up her papers and headed out the door for the Institute.
The grey day matched her mood as she walked from her apartment to the Institute, a light rain fell from the sky more like a mist. Each step took farther away from her past as she prepared to reenter the world of Art History.
She walked in the door and her secretary Lucia perked up.
"Signora, Alighieri, how was your trip?"
She forced a smile, she had never told anyone about her first trip to Venice and meeting Gabriel.
"The conference was fascinating and the rest uneventful."
Quickly she changed the subject.
"Is their coffee, Lucia, and is the Maestro in?"
"Si, on both counts."
Lucia's brows furrowed in concern, usually Seraphina was more talkative after a conference.
"is everything alright, Signora?"
"Si, Lucia, just tired, i was up late last night."
Briskly she walked tot he coffee machine and poured herself a cup before going down the hall to the Maestro's office. She stopped at the door and took a deep breath. They had known each other for years, he was her first instructor at the Institute and the one that convinced her to stay on as staff, he always knew when something was wrong. He alone knew of her missions across the world, but even he did not about Gabriel. She knocked on the door.
"Si," a deep bass voice answered.
She opened the door an walked in, he stood up and reached out to give her a hug. He stood about six foot tall even at 50 years old. He stood straight and tall his simple black wool suit and white dress shirt immaculately pressed. HI red tie was the only colour. His dark hair framed a pale complexion and dark blue eyes. There was nothing about him that looked even vaguely Tuscan though he had been born in Florence. On his walls hung photos of the greatest works of Tuscan art and a copy of the Divine Comedy that Seraphina had given him.
"Mia Seraphina, I am glad to see that you have returned to us safely. How was the conference?"
She returned his hug, and stepped back from him, smiling.
"It was very interesting, it has however changed our budget a bit for cleaning the Medici Tomb, we will have to renegotiate the state's contribution to cover it all."
"That might be difficult, Seraphina, they are worried about war, just like the rest of us and they have so much here to try and preserve."
"I know Maestro, I know. We can still use the same technique used to clean David, but it will take longer."
"I know but it is the best we can do right now. How about the interns?"
"There are several in my class interested, but it is not enough. We could pull from other branches of the Institute, but I would like to have as many Florentines as I could, I mean it is our Identity.'
"Si, si. I will talk to the State and see what I can do."
She stared at the Maestro in silence trying to think of a way. A light came into her eyes.
"Can we prove they are related to the Medici?"
A sly smile spread across her lips.
"I will try, my sweet Seraph of Inspiration, but that is a truly Machiavellian Idea. Politics has treated you well I see."
He smiled broadly his blue eyes lighting up.
Pain flashed across her eyes as she though back on the atrocities that she had seen, the suffering, and of course Gabriel.
"Si, Maestro, they have."
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